The Birthday Party
by anotherredhead
Summary: Kitty talks Matt into helping her throw a surprise party, which quickly starts spiraling out of control when nothing goes as planned.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I don't own these characters, I just enjoy giving them nice stories. I did my best to research 19th century customs, but I'm not a historian so you might have to just roll with a few of the details.

The Birthday Party

Chapter 1

**Saturday**

Matt Dillon stopped just inside the saloon doors and carefully scanned the bustling crowd. He had no reason to expect trouble, but experience had taught him to take nothing for granted. He always rested easier after rounds, and particularly after this stop.

At the end of the bar, a very busy redhead masterfully balanced a heavy tray of foamy mugs and headed to a table full of paying customers. Spotting the tall lawman near the entrance, she quickly delivered the drinks before weaving her way through wall to wall men, until she was standing face to chest with the only one who mattered to her.

"Looks like you're having a good night," he observed proudly. Kitty Russell had just become the co-owner of The Long Branch, having worked her way up from saloon girl with as much discipline and determination as he had ever seen. Her business partner had taken a much deserved vacation, and she was in charge of their establishment alone for the very first time.

"A few more nights like this and I might actually be able to pay the bills," she joked, clearly pleased with the way her new business was going. Matt laughed and bit his lip as he tried to stay focused on those beautiful eyes, a task which would be anything but difficult if not for the view afforded by her low cut dress. Of course she didn't mind him looking, but it wasn't exactly professional for the town marshal to be ogling the saloon keeper during rounds. It was a temptation he had fought practically every day for the past couple of years, though it had become easier now that he knew a more intimate viewing was in his future most nights. Their close, magnetic friendship had turned into a full-blown love affair, and neither of them had ever been happier.

Kitty spied a table opening up in the back and motioned Matt to follow her. She had a twinkle in her eyes, the kind that made her entire face light up with excitement. The last time Matt saw that look, he ended up as one eighth of a quadrille at a barn dance he wasn't even planning to attend. The outgoing, fun loving Miss Russell somehow managed to drag the shy marshal out of his comfort zone on a regular basis, and he usually ended up enjoying it despite himself. He couldn't help but wonder what adventure she had in mind this time.

He pulled out her chair, and she eagerly began her story before she was fully seated. Doc had been tending to a patient with a high fever, she explained, and she had volunteered to relieve him for a couple of hours that afternoon while he got a bite to eat. The patient had slept most of the time, and she had attempted to entertain herself with a medical book she found on his desk. It wasn't particularly engrossing, so she had casually picked through some other books and papers in search of something more interesting.

"I wasn't snooping Matt, honestly I wasn't," she insisted before he had even hinted at the possibility. "I was just looking for something to read."

"What did you find?" he asked, guessing that there was a good reason for this pre-emptive clarification.

"I found an application he's filling out for some doctor's society. I think it was called the American Medical Association. I didn't read it all, but…"

"But what?"

"I saw his birthdate," she said with a mischievous grin. "It's next week, Matt, and it's a big one. He's turning fifty."

"Now hold on, Kitty," Matt started in a cautious voice, seeing the wheels turning. Doc's age and birthday had always been a mystery, and he seemed to want it that way. Kitty had once asked how old he was, and he had grumpily replied, "A hundred and four." Some things, he figured, just weren't anybody else's business.

He did a fairly good job of hiding it, but beneath that grumpy exterior Doc Adams was a complete marshmallow, especially where Kitty Russell was concerned. It had all the markings of fate when a childless man with the wisdom and selflessness of a father met a lovely young woman who had grown up without one. The two adored each other, and Kitty was determined to make this milestone birthday special if it killed him.

"Oh Matt," she said dismissively, not letting him damper her enthusiasm. "It's just a little party. What harm can it do?"

"What if Doc doesn't want a party? You know how he is. Don't you think he would have told us his birthday by now if he had any interest in celebrating it?" he reasoned.

"Maybe he just doesn't know what he's been missing," she answered with a shrug. "I know how to throw one hell of a party." Matt started to argue but quickly realized it would be an exercise in futility. Kitty had her mind set on this, and although what he knew about women might fit on the back of a small envelope, he had learned that much.

Kitty sighed and lightly touched his arm. "We won't tell anyone how old he is," she assured him, understanding his trepidation. "I'll just invite his friends, and some of the townspeople he has helped. Matt, you know what he means to everyone here. He works around the clock when there's a need, and half the time he gets paid in chickens or pies if he gets paid at all. Everyone would love the chance to show their appreciation, and I want to give it to them. To _him_. I know I can do this in a way that will make him happy. That's all I want to do."

How could he argue with that? Matt smiled and shook his head. "You know, you're really something."

"Does that mean you're in?" she asked excitedly.

"So when are we throwing this shindig?"

"Next Friday," she practically squealed. "But not a word to Doc, promise? I don't want him getting wind of this and acting like…well, like himself."

"Yes Ma'am," he promised seriously, catching a figure moving toward their table from the corner of his eye.

"There you are!" said Chester Goode, in a voice loud enough to overcome the noise in the room. He removed his hat and smiled sheepishly at his boss's companion. "Pardon me, Miss Kitty, I sure hate to interrupt you and Mister Dillon."

"That's okay, Chester," she replied pleasantly.

"As a matter of fact," Matt began, "Kitty was just telling me about this birthday party she's planning—"

"For one of my friends," Kitty quickly interjected as she gave him a swift kick in the shin with a new fashion boot.

"Well ain't that nice," Chester said, oblivious to the grimace on Matt's face. "Whose birthday is it?"

"Um, one of the girls," she replied tentatively, giving Matt the stink eye.

"Which one?" Chester continued to probe.

_Oh for God's sake Chester, what does it matter? _Kitty searched the room and saw her new girl sitting in the corner chatting with a customer. "I don't think you know her," she replied casually. "She's not been here very long."

Chester noticed Kitty staring in the corner and turned his attention in the same direction. Charlotte Price was a stunning young blonde with hazel eyes, and she had caught Chester's fancy the first night he had seen her at The Long Branch. He had talked to her a couple of times and decided that she was as nice as she was pretty. Unbeknownst to any of his friends, he was considering asking her to the Ford County Sociable.

"Is it Miss Charlotte?" he asked with interest.

_Damn._ Little white lies worked best when they were vague and unverifiable. "Well…yes, her name is Charlotte."

"That's a mighty nice thang for you to do," Chester said sincerely. "Makin' a girl feel all welcome and special like that. You're a good friend, Miss Kitty."

Matt sat back and crossed his arms, watching in amusement as Kitty squirmed. "Thank you, Chester," she replied, hoping to sound flattered instead of guilty.

"When is the party?" Chester asked.

"When?" she repeated, trying unsuccessfully to think of an excuse not to answer. "Oh, well…it's next Friday. But it's a surprise. Not a word to anyone, okay? I haven't really got it all planned out yet."

"Sure thang, Miss Kitty," Chester promised as Kitty made a mental note to let Charlotte in on the ruse before he inevitably spilled the beans to her.

Chester suddenly remembered why he was there and mercifully changed the subject. "Mister Dillon, I just came to tell you that Buck Morgan says he's ready to talk."

Matt had arrested Buck Morgan that morning, a young man with the unfortunate distinction of being the slowest runner in a group of teenagers who decided to help themselves to some merchandise in The General Store. Matt had taken off after them when he saw Mr. Jonas yelling at the boys as they ran down Front Street with their pockets bulging. Buck had been the smallest, and Matt only needed about two strides to catch up with him. The boy was not cooperative, and Matt had told him he was welcome to sit in a jail cell until he decided to identify the rest of the gang so that Mr. Jonas could get his merchandise back. That had been a good twelve hours ago, and he knew Buck would eventually get tired of being the patsy.

"OK, thanks Chester," he said. "Tell him I'll be there in a couple of minutes." Chester nodded and put his hat back on. "Yes, Sir," he replied before heading back to the jail.

Kitty blew out a long breath as Matt looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Oh, don't you start," she warned him. "This is all your fault anyway. How could you think of telling Chester about the party?"

"Well aren't we going to invite him?" Matt asked.

"Of _course_ we're going to invite him," she responded. "Just not yet. What do you think the chances are of Chester Goode keeping a secret from Doc for almost a whole week?"

"You've got a point there," he admitted, scooting his chair back and standing up. "But how are you going to explain to him that the party isn't really for Charlotte?"

"I don't know yet. I'll think of something," she declared.

Matt was sure she would. "Well, I guess I'd better get over to the jail," he said. "After I stop by Doc's, that is."

"Why do you need to stop by Doc's?" she asked suspiciously.

"I seem to have injured my shin," Matt replied, limping out of the saloon with exaggeration as Kitty broke up laughing.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The Birthday Party

Chapter 2

**Monday**

The early evening rush was at least an hour away, and Kitty busied herself addressing a stack of party invitations that was larger than she had originally planned. The list of people Doc had helped was a long one, and she hated to leave anyone out. She and Matt would split up the invitations and hand deliver them the next day. All except Chester's, that is.

Seeing Doc walk into the saloon, she quickly moved the stack from the table top to her lap. He looked exhausted as he pulled out the chair across from her and practically fell into it. "Hello, Doc," she said with a warm smile. "You look like you could use a drink."

"I sure could," he replied gratefully, and Kitty called to her barkeep to bring over a couple of beers. "Rough day?" she asked sympathetically.

"Long day," he replied. "Dan Archer interrupted my breakfast this morning, said Millie was in labor. I just got back."

"What did she have this time?" Kitty wondered, not that it mattered. Dan and Millie Archer had plenty of both sexes.

"A healthy boy," he stated. "You know, after ten children I figured this one might just crawl out on his own. But he took his sweet time like all the others."

Kitty laughed as Sam set their mugs on the table. She felt the stack of invitations start to slide off her lap and quickly caught them with one hand. Leaning down, she gently set them on the floor next to her foot. "Ooh, leg itch," she explained before Doc could ask. "So what else is going on? I didn't see you yesterday."

"Oh, the usual. Mrs. Eggart and her mysterious traveling joint pain. A couple of coughs and fevers. Elmer Sturgis tripped over a chicken and required four stitches in his head. How about you? I hear you're having a big birthday party Friday night."

Kitty struggled to maintain a poker face as her heart skipped a beat. "Where did you hear that?" she asked, feigning indifference.

"From Chester, of course. Who else would be spreading the news about a surprise party?" he cracked. "Now why on earth would you tell him something like that? You know he's got a bigger mouth than the Arkansas River."

Kitty forced a weak laugh. "Yeah, that's our Chester. What did he say?"

"Just that you're having a party for the new girl. He seems to have quite the crush on this Charlotte. He was asking me for suggestions on what to get her for her birthday."

_Oh great_. "What did you tell him?" she asked casually.

"Now how in thunder would I know what to get a girl for her birthday?" he huffed, making sure to look appropriately irritated. Doc shook his head and took a gulp of his beer as Kitty prepared to pump him for more information. She didn't get the chance before the batwing doors swung open and Matt Dillon entered. Seeing his friends at the table, he walked over to join them.

"Doc, Kitty," he nodded, aiming a barely perceptible wink at his lady.

"Pull up a seat and join us, Matt," Doc invited, and the marshal obliged.

"Doc was just telling me that Chester wants to buy Charlotte a birthday gift," Kitty said in a tone that made it sound important.

Matt raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"Oh you know Chester," Doc mused. "Every time a pretty girl comes to town he falls all over himself. I have to say, he seems especially smitten with this one."

"What makes you say that?" Kitty questioned.

"For one thing, he asked me how much a new suit costs," Doc chuckled, imagining Chester in a fancy outfit. "You don't buy a new suit for just anybody."

Kitty shot a look of panic at her unwilling cohort in this well-intentioned charade. Matt subtly shrugged his shoulders, unsure what he was supposed to do about it.

"You can't let him do that!" she exclaimed, not directing the comment at either man in particular. She didn't care who took care of it, as long as somebody made sure Chester didn't show up Friday night in courting clothes, unwittingly bearing flowers for a cantankerous gray-haired man with a moustache.

"Why in tarnation not?" Doc asked, taken aback by Kitty's rather strong reaction to Chester's plans. "Is there something wrong with this girl?"

"No, of course not," she replied, searching her mind for an explanation. "It's just that… Chester doesn't make a lot of money. He can't afford all that. Besides, I decided to make it a girls' party. I don't want to overwhelm her with a bunch of people, she just moved here. I'm only inviting a few of her new girlfriends."

Matt didn't say a word, silently admiring her quick thinking even as the hole kept getting deeper.

"Well, Chester's going to be one of the girls if somebody doesn't tell him," Doc retorted.

Kitty glanced pleadingly at Matt, who was still wondering how in the hell he got involved in this. He wasn't good at telling fibs, even small ones for a worthy cause. But he was even worse at saying no to the titian-haired beauty sitting next to him. One look from those sapphire eyes and the formidable lawman turned into a pile of mush.

"I'll talk to him," Matt sighed as Kitty smiled gratefully.

"Do you know where he is now?" she asked, hoping to light a small fire under that cute behind.

"I just left him over at the jail," Matt replied, looking longingly at their beers and sensing that he wouldn't be getting one himself. "I suppose you 'd like me to go back there."

"It would just be a shame to see him spend money on something he doesn't need," she reasoned, genuinely concerned about her friend. "I hope he isn't getting measured for a suit as we speak."

Matt scooted out his chair and began to stand up. "I'm on my way," he announced, slightly tilting his head toward the door and hoping Kitty would catch his subtle cue to meet him outside.

"Oh, I'll walk you out," she said helpfully as she headed toward the door, fingers crossed that the stack of invitations stayed stacked and out of view. Doc jerked his head around and absentmindedly rubbed his cheek as his favorite couple hurried outside. What in the world was up with them?

Matt spoke in a hushed tone as they reached the sidewalk. "Can't I just tell Chester the truth? That the party is really for Doc?"

"No!" she answered in a whisper scream. "It took him all of a few hours to tell Doc that fake secret about Charlotte. I love him Matt, you know I do, but if you tell him he'll ruin it for all of us. Just tell him there was a misunderstanding and the party is only for us girls. He'll believe that. Then I'll think of a way to tell him later that it's actually for Doc."

Matt inhaled deeply and made a face. "I hope you know there's not another person in the world who could talk me into this scheme, Kitty Russell."

Kitty shot him a sexy smile and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "And I hope you know you're going to get rewarded handsomely for it later, Cowboy," she said, putting one hand on each curvaceous hip.

"In that case, I have a pressing date with Chester," he announced before walking swiftly toward the jail.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The Birthday Party

Chapter 3

The unmistakable sound of one of Chester's ditties was audible well before Matt reached the door of the office. "Oh Martha Jean was kinda mean…" Matt opened the door and Chester stopped singing, in mid-sweep with the broom.

"Mister Dillon! You ain't been gone long a'tall. I thought you was gonna get a beer over at The Long Branch."

"So did I," Matt muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. Say Chester, I did stop by The Long Branch and was just talking with Doc and Kitty. It seems there has been…well, a misunderstanding about that birthday party."

"What do you mean?" Chester asked with a frown.

"Well, you see…Kitty was only planning on inviting the girls to the party, and…"

"What girls?" Chester interrupted.

"Um…her girls, I suppose. Maybe some others from town that Charlotte has become friendly with. I don't know, it's not my party, and I…"

"Well, that ain't what she said last night. I mean, she didn't say it was just for girls."

"Yes, but…she said she didn't have it all planned out," Matt reminded him, rather proud of his quick thinking. "She must've just decided on it."

Chester was clearly disappointed. "Well, if that's what she decided," he said softly, with a slight pout. "I suppose I could maybe stop by after and give Miss Charlotte her present."

"What present?" Matt asked.

"Oh, I ain't bought nothin' yet," he replied. "But I've got a little money saved up, and seein' how it's her birthday and all…"

"You don't need to do that," Matt hastily interjected.

"Why not?" Chester asked.

_Why not? I don't know. Dammit, Kitty!_ "Because…you see," he began, talking slowly, "I might need you to…run an errand for me on Friday. So there's a good chance you won't even be in Dodge for the party anyway." He was getting almost as good as Kitty at this. Later he would tell Chester that plans had changed and he didn't have to go after all. That would work.

"What kind of errand, Mister Dillon?" Chester asked with obvious surprise.

"Well, you see, there's this gold shipment coming in from Great Bend, and the bridge needs to be checked out by the weekend. I have this…thing to do on Friday, so I was going to send you to do it." _Whew._

"What kind of thing?" Chester wondered aloud.

_Oh for God's sake, does he ever stop asking questions? I had damn well better get handsomely rewarded for this. _

Matt nervously raked his fingers through his dark, wavy mane. "It's business, Chester. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Yes, Sir," Chester answered meekly, sensing his boss's irritation. He looked down and returned to his sweeping.

Matt sighed. Chester was a sensitive soul, and it wasn't exactly his fault that this story was spinning out of control. Matt fished a nickel out of his pocket and handed it to his busy assistant.

"It's been a long day," Matt declared. "Here, go have a beer on me. You've earned it."

Chester quickly turned his frown upside down. "Sure thang, Mister Dillon," he grinned, excited not only at the free beer but the genuine compliment from the marshal. "I mean, as long as you insist…"

"I insist," Matt said with a chuckle as he gestured toward the door. Chester propped his broom against the wall and headed to The Long Branch for his reward.

GSGSGSGSGSGS

**Monday Night**

The full moon cast a soft glow onto Kitty's bed as she lay in the crook of Matt's arm, twirling his chest hair gently around her fingers. "Do you know how wonderful you are?" she asked, almost rhetorically.

"Well, you made me sound pretty wonderful a few minutes ago," he quipped as she playfully slapped him on the shoulder.

"That's not what I meant," she protested, trying not to laugh. "I'm talking about what you did for me earlier. I know you're not sold on this party, but you know how much it means to me and you're doing me a big favor by going along with it. I appreciate your talking to Chester. You did some pretty quick thinking with that bridge story. I'm impressed."

"Well, I learned from the best," he teased. "Have you figured out how you're going to explain all this when the time comes?"

"Not yet," she admitted. "I'll think of something. I wouldn't hurt his feelings for the world."

"Your heart's in the right place, Honey. It always is," he said, brushing her cheek with his lips and caressing her bare thigh with his strong hand. "I just feel kind of bad that we got Chester involved."

"YOU got Chester involved," she corrected him. "I knew when to keep my mouth shut for once."

"Okay then, I feel bad that _I_ got Chester involved," he repeated with her correction. "I just don't like making up stories."

"I know, Matt," she said apologetically. "But I promise, it's all going to work out. Chester was fine this afternoon after you talked to him. He came in and had a beer and didn't seem upset at all. I'll figure out what to tell him, and then he and Doc and everyone else will have the time of their lives at the party. I finally got the invitations done today. I know a lot of people can't afford a gift, and Doc wouldn't want that anyway. So no bought gifts allowed—I'm asking people to make something or write him a note, just anything that lets him know how lucky we are to have him. I think he'll appreciate that."

Matt pulled her even closer, wrapping both arms around her small frame as she nuzzled her face against his neck. "Do you know how wonderful you are?" he asked in that same rhetorical tone.

"Yes," she cooed as she circled his earlobe with her tongue. "Would you like me to show you again?"

Indeed he did. Matt rolled over on top of her and prepared to enjoy part two of his handsome reward.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The Birthday Party

Chapter 4

**Tuesday**

Matt sat on the bed and watched as Kitty sifted through her box of party favors.

"Too much?" she asked lightheartedly as she held a cone shaped hat in place over layers of red curls.

"Maybe a little," Matt replied with a chuckle. "I wouldn't advise giving Doc anything with a sharp point once he figures out what you've done."

"Well, aren't you clever," she replied with good-natured sarcasm, tossing the hat back into the box. "I haven't looked in here since I helped Trudy Carville celebrate her son's eighth birthday back in New Orleans."

"Something tells me there's not much in there suitable for a fifty-year-old boy," Matt surmised.

"I suppose not," she sighed, putting the lid on the box and shoving it back under her bed. "Let's see, I've ordered Doc's favorite raspberry cream cake from the bakery, and Mr. Jonas said he could get me some candles, so…"

"Candles?" Matt interrupted. "For Doc? That cake must be huge."

"Oh, you're just hilarious today," she declared dryly. "I happen to have a very clever idea for the candles."

"And what is that?" he wondered curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she replied flirtatiously. "I don't have to tell you everything, Marshal. There should be a few surprises in a relationship."

"Every day is a surprise with you, Kitty Russell," he returned as he grabbed her hand and pulled her slightly off balance in his direction. She fell into his lap and giggled as he caught her back and leaned down for a kiss.

Their lips had barely touched when they heard three rapid knocks on the door. "Mister Dillon, are you in there?" asked the ever familiar voice, one they should have expected given their history. It was Chester Goode: Romance Buster.

Chester had the uncanny knack of not only locating them any time of day or night, but of arriving milliseconds before something fun was about to happen. Whether they had slipped into Kitty's room, escaped to a secluded restaurant outside of town, or planned a picnic in a remote part of the vast Kansas Plains, Matt and Kitty often felt like they had somehow left a trail of breadcrumbs visible only to Chester.

Kitty rolled her eyes and scooted off of Matt's lap. "Hello, Chester," she said with forced sweetness as she opened the door no more than a foot. With any luck they could head him off before he made it inside.

"Afternoon, Miss Kitty," he replied with his typical courteousness. "I sure do hate to bother ya, but I need to talk to Mister Dillon. Is he here?"

"What is it?" came the baritone voice from somewhere inside the room.

Chester craned his neck around the shapely figure in the doorway and caught a glimpse of his employer sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and awkwardly thrust it through the opening so it was in Matt's line of vision.

"You got a wire from Hays, and it's kinda important," he reported, with enough volume to carry through the barrier that remained between them.

Matt looked at Kitty apologetically. "Come on in," he invited with the little enthusiasm he could muster.

Kitty opened the door the rest of the way and began mentally scheduling the rest of her day, resigned that nothing else was going to happen here.

Chester hobbled over to the bed and handed the paper to Matt, who immediately started to scan the short message from the judge.

"Looks like yer gonna hafta go to Hays this weekend," Chester announced out loud as Matt silently read the words.

"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly, already dreading that long ride. "It sure does."

Kitty shot him a disapproving look. "_This_ weekend?" she repeated, with the fervent hope that Friday was not part of this weekend.

"I have to testify at an emergency appeal hearing first thing Monday morning," he explained, understanding her concern and eager to put her mind at ease. "I'll plan to leave Saturday morning. That will give me Sunday to consult with the judge beforehand if I need to." Kitty gave him a relieved smile.

"Are you still gonna be able to do that thang on Friday, Mister Dillon?" Chester wondered.

"What thing?" Matt blurted out before thinking about it.

"You know, how I gotta go check on that bridge Friday 'cause you have official business to tend to," he reminded him.

"Oh, that," Matt said, as if it had just slipped his mind. "I don't know. If not, they'll understand."

"Who'll understand?" Chester pressed.

_Really? More questions?_

Matt shifted his weight and nervously glanced at the woman responsible for his discomfort. She was biting her bottom lip, trying not to laugh.

"The people I have official business with," he replied somewhat crabbily. How long was he going to have to keep up this farce? And when could he tell poor Chester that he wasn't going to Great Bend on Friday?

_He sure is testy about that official business_, Chester thought to himself as he directed his attention to Kitty. "I guess it's gonna be awful quiet around here on Saturday with the three of us gone," he noted.

"The three of us?" Matt said quizzically.

"Well, you're leavin' for Hays, and Doc and me prolly won't be back 'til Saturday night or Sunday."

"What do you mean 'Doc and me'?" Kitty demanded.

"Well, I was tellin' Doc about going to Great Bend on Friday, and he said he'd ride up with me as far as Kinsley so's he could visit with Tom and Carrie Watkins. You know, since he ain't invited to the girl party neither. Said he's been meanin' to go up and check on Carrie before she has that baby, and it'd be nice to have somebody to ride up with. I cain't believe ol' Doc and me is gonna take a trip together," Chester said proudly.

Kitty couldn't believe it either. She put her hand on her forehead, trying to digest this new information. She had thirty people coming Friday night. Thirty people expecting to eat cake, drink beer, and offer their most heartfelt birthday wishes to a guest of honor who was planning to be forty miles away, accompanying Chester on a trip he wasn't actually taking. What else could possibly go wrong?

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

The Birthday Party

Chapter 5

Matt Dillon was still learning about women. He wasn't an emotional man and didn't always instinctively know when Kitty needed comforting, but something told him this was one of those times. He wrapped his strong arms around his lover and sympathetically rubbed her back.

"Oh Matt, this is turning into such a mess," she lamented almost tearfully. "What are we going to do now?"

"Haven't I done enough?" he joked, hoping to lighten the mood. "I mean, I came up with such a good story for Chester that I've managed to get rid of Doc as well."

Kitty didn't find that particularly funny. "Well, you've got to talk to Doc," she stated bluntly. "You have to make sure he doesn't leave town on Friday."

"Oh, no," he protested, shaking his head. "It's your turn. I'm all talked out."

Kitty Russell didn't give up that easily. "But he thinks you're sending Chester to Great Bend. You have to tell him you're not."

"Okay, suppose I tell him that," Matt agreed for the sake of argument. "What if he decides to go anyway? He's been talking about going to Kinsley for weeks now. You know how much he thinks of Tom and Carrie, and when they moved he promised to check on her before the baby came."

"I don't know, just do something!" she said louder than she intended.

"I did! And look at how that turned out!" he returned with an even greater volume that he immediately regretted.

Matt Dillon was an introvert by nature and peacekeeper by occupation. He disliked arguments with a passion, especially when they involved Kitty Russell. And not just because he rarely won any. Their romance was still in its infancy, but he'd had enough relationships to know that there was something different about this one. In fact, he was already quite certain that this was _the_ one, and he was averse to anything that might put it at risk.

"I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to yell," he said in a much softer tone. "I'm just frustrated. I know how much this party means to you and I want to help, but it seems like it's been one big string of mishaps ever since you told me about it."

"I'm sorry too," she echoed with resignation. "You're right, this has been a disaster from the very beginning. I think the universe is trying to tell me something. It was a bad idea. I'm going to cancel the party."

Matt saw the tears pooling in her eyes as her voice broke with disappointment. There were few things the experienced lawman couldn't bear to see, but this was one of them.

"You'll do no such thing," he ordered, placing a large finger under her chin and gently lifting her face to meet his. "It's still a wonderful idea, it just hit a few snags. We'll fix it."

Matt waited for that broad smile that made him go weak in the knees, and it was worth the wait. She put her hands on his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. "I love you," she chirped as he headed out to come up with yet another story.

GSGSGSGSGSGSGSGSG

Doc Adams had almost made it to the entrance of the Telegraph office when he saw his closest friend hurrying toward him with a purposeful gait.

"Something wrong?" Doc asked worriedly as Matt got within earshot.

"Hi Doc," Matt answered without concern, avoiding his question. "What are you up to today?"

"If you must know, I was just going to send Tom Watkins a wire," he replied, confuzzled at the sudden, almost urgent interest in his immediate plans.

"Tom Watkins?" Matt questioned innocently.

"Yes, you remember him," Doc remarked sarcastically about the man they both knew so well. "Tall fellow, blond hair, lived in Dodge his whole life until recently."

Matt briefly turned away and rolled his eyes out of Doc's view. "Well of course I remember him. I was just wondering why you were sending him a wire."

Doc looked slightly annoyed at the intrusion. "I'm planning to go up and check on Carrie this weekend. That is, if it's alright with you," he huffed.

"This weekend?" Matt repeated.

"That's what I said!" Doc growled in a voice that matched the scowl on his face. "What is this, the Inquisition?"

Matt knew how uncharacteristically ridiculous this small talk must sound, but he couldn't let Doc send that wire. _This weekend_. He suddenly had a rather brilliant idea.

"Well you don't have to get so testy," he scoffed with mock offense. "I was just thinking that I have to go to Hays on Saturday, and the stage stops in Kinsley. We could ride up together and it would give me a chance to stop by and say hi to Tom and Carrie."

Doc tugged on his ear and softened his demeanor. "That's a fine idea, Matt, but I'm afraid I've already told Chester I'd ride up with him on Friday when he goes to check on that bridge in Great Bend."

"Oh right, about that," Matt started. "It seems there's been a change in plans with that gold shipment. I'm not going to need Chester to go up there after all."

Doc looked surprised. "Really? We made those plans not a half hour ago."

"Chester doesn't know yet," he admitted.

"Shouldn't somebody tell him? He's probably half packed by now," Doc figured after seeing Chester's enthusiasm at his suggestion that they travel together.

Matt sighed. Yes, somebody should.

"I'll go find him," Matt promised, motioning toward the Telegraph office door. "You go ahead and take care of this."

"Take care of what?" Doc asked.

"Of sending the wire to Tom," Matt informed him, as though it should be obvious.

"You mean about Friday?" Doc asked, still confused.

"No, it's Saturday now," Matt corrected.

Doc looked slightly disappointed. "But I was looking forward to Friday because…oh, never mind."

Matt wanted to tell him. _We know it's your fiftieth birthday, you old coot, and it's going to be special. Trust me, you don't want to leave town on Friday. _ But he couldn't do that. Kitty would skin him alive.

"Didn't we just agree that it was a good idea to go up together on Saturday?" Matt reminded him.

Doc chuckled and scratched his head. "After this conversation, I'm not sure of a dadblasted thing."

"Send him a wire about _Saturday_," Matt emphasized to Doc as he headed off to find Chester. He had just one more thing to fix—for today anyway.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

The Birthday Party

Chapter 6

**Thursday night**

Galen Adams unhooked the wire rims from around his ears and rubbed his weary eyes. It was well past his bedtime, and he had spent the better part of the day and night carefully monitoring Billy Gorman's fever.

He would never forget the look of sheer terror on Ted Gorman's face when he rushed into the office that morning saying his boy was sick. "You've got to help him, Doc," Ted pleaded with urgency. "Rachel and me…we can't go through this again. We just can't."

It had been almost two years to the day since their daughter had died of typhoid fever, and Rachel was just getting to the point where she could enjoy life again. Not as she had before, of course—the loss of a child leaves a void that is never filled. But Billy kept her going, and she had stayed strong for him. Doc knew that if she lost Billy there would be no recovery, not even the appearance of one. And so he had grabbed his black bag and rushed out of the office to fetch his horse and buggy, as he had done a thousand times before, with the fervent hope that this time he would be able to offer more than a sincere prayer and heartfelt condolences.

Twelve hours later he was back home and ready for bed, feeling every year of the half century he would be in a few hours. The willow bark seemed to have helped the fever, and Billy didn't have any of the other symptoms of typhoid. He was cautiously optimistic that this was a just routine infection that had to run its course. But the nagging feeling that he had missed something was never far from his mind, not with any of his patients. In a way, he and Matt shared a common burden—the responsibility for the lives of others. The circumstances might not be the same, but the unmistakable call to duty was. It was perhaps one of the reasons they were so close. They understood each other.

Doc removed his suit coat and vest and unbuttoned his sweat-stained shirt. It wasn't brutally hot for a July day, but the humidity was high and three layers of clothing got uncomfortable pretty quickly. He kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, and took a quick sponge bath before changing into his night clothes and falling into bed.

The sleep that should have come easily eluded him. Nothing was particularly wrong, but Doc found his mind wandering_. _Fifty years. How had he lived this long? He was a good decade past the average life expectancy, and he had been exposed to measles, cholera, tuberculosis, pneumonia, and every other kind of contagious fever and disease known in Kansas. He had seen children orphaned, parents devastated, men and women left to grieve their spouses—yet here he was, a healthy old bachelor who had barely missed a day of work in over twenty-five years. Life sure was unpredictable.

He continued to toss and turn, his thoughts shifting to the application for membership in the American Medical Association that had been sitting on his desk for a week. Why hadn't he sent it in? It was a privilege for someone like himself to be invited, anyone not associated with a hospital or medical college had to be recommended by a current member. He had been recommended by one of the best—Dr. Harlan Kurtzman, Chief of Surgery at the prestigious Pennsylvania Hospital.

He pictured his youthful classmate from those many years ago, a charming, brilliant man with dark hair and strong features who was popular with both the ladies and his fellow medical students. The distinguished path his career had taken was no surprise to anyone who knew him—certainly not to his good friend and anatomy lab partner, Galen Adams. They'd had only sparse communication over the years since graduation, until Doc found himself dealing with a perplexing medical problem several months ago and decided to seek the advice of the smartest man he had ever encountered. They had rekindled their friendship and established a mutual professional admiration through those letters, and when Harlan extended an invitation for Doc to join the American Medical Association he couldn't help but feel honored. The Association, established in 1847, stood for ideas and principals that Doc believed in—standardization of educational requirements ensuring that all doctors were properly trained, establishment of moral and ethical standards by which they practiced, and keeping the public informed about the dangers of relying on the useless concoctions peddled by snake oil salesmen. Doc had seen more than his share of them in Dodge.

So why was the application still on his desk? For one thing, the three dollar membership fee was not inconsequential to a man whose customers frequently couldn't pay him. To some that might seem like bad business, but to Doc it was part of life as a country doctor. He had sworn an oath to his patients, to "do no harm or injustice," and there was nothing just about denying medical treatment to people because they were poor. Doc figured if getting paid was his main concern, he was in the wrong profession.

It was a good excuse, but in all honesty money wasn't the main reason. He may not be rich, but he could afford three dollars. No, he had gotten hung up on one line of that damn application and couldn't seem to get past it. _Special Skills._

He could imagine the typical responses from doctors working in academia and research hospitals all over the country. He subscribed to _The New England Journal of Medicine_ and knew the kinds of breakthroughs they were making, and Harlan himself was simultaneously working on a cholera vaccine and designing a new type of surgical clamp. His work seemed routine by comparison—delivering babies, cleaning wounds, prescribing powders for various ailments, even making house calls for sick livestock. In short, his "special skills" consisted of knowing at least something about every possible emergency that could crop up in a wild west town with more cattle than people. But that wouldn't fit on the line, and it made him wonder if perhaps he didn't fit in the American Medical Association.

Doc rolled over and adjusted his pillow, thankful that his travel plans had been postponed by a day. He would be too tired to get up early and ride in a bumpy stage all day tomorrow. Even so, he was sorry he wouldn't have that diversion on the golden anniversary of his birth. He hadn't told a soul about it, so there would be no fanfare among his friends. It was just another day, another number, and people were busy enough trying to stay alive and keep their businesses afloat without feeling some obligation to do something for him. He didn't care for that kind of attention anyway.

Still…it might have been kind of nice. He loved these people like family, and if he had to get older he couldn't think of anyone he'd rather do it with. As it turned out, Kitty had already made other plans so it didn't matter now. Doc smiled at the thought of the lovely young lady who had brightened the streets of Dodge City for the past two years. Leave it to Kitty Russell to make a newcomer feel welcome with a special party. What were the chances it would be on his birthday? Funny. He was slightly disappointed that it was women only. Kitty could throw one hell of a party, and it would be fun to do some celebrating even if it was for someone else. But he didn't even know Charlotte, so he could hardly complain about that. At least he wasn't pining away for her like poor Chester.

No, tomorrow was just another Friday. He would get up, see if his friends wanted to join him for breakfast at Delmonico's, and make himself available to anyone who needed him, as he had done for half his life. Doc shifted positions once again and slowly drifted off to sleep.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

The Birthday Party

Chapter 7

**Friday**

Matt took his first gulp of morning coffee and grimaced. It was a daily ritual, waking up to the aroma of a fresh brew before the harsh reminder that Chester made it. He was just starting to catch up on the mail when he heard the door open.

It was early for Kitty Russell to be up and about, but this was no ordinary day. She breezed into the office with a spring in her step, dressed in a casual blouse and skirt with her hair hanging loosely over one shoulder.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully, seeing Matt behind his desk and Chester in the corner. "Anybody up for some breakfast?"

"I could eat a bite," Chester offered.

"Me too," Matt chimed in. "Have you seen Doc around? I'd hate to go without him, especially today."

"Not yet," she replied as Chester wondered why especially today. "Want me to see if I can find him?"

"Sure," Matt returned. "Um, I was just getting ready to tell Chester about the party change," he prodded.

Matt had talked to Chester after leaving Doc at the Telegraph office, and he figured he had done a pretty good job of it. He had convincingly explained the delay with the gold shipment and the postponement of the trip to the bridge. Chester had been disappointed but had accepted the news with his typical good-naturedness, and Kitty assured Matt that she would have a suitable story ready by Friday morning about Doc's party. Surely they could keep an eye on him for a few hours and make sure he didn't spoil the surprise.

"Oh yes, it's really quite funny," she began with a nervous chuckle. "You see, I thought it was Charlotte's birthday because I overheard her talking to one of the girls about it. As it turns out, I totally misunderstood the conversation. She was talking about someone else. It's not her birthday after all."

Chester let that information soak in for a few seconds. "So there ain't no party tonight?" he assumed.

"Well, that's the funny part," Kitty continued, talking fast. "It's quite a coincidence, but I happened to find out that it's actually Doc's birthday. So I decided to go ahead with the party, but now it's for Doc."

"Doc? Well, how in the world did you find that out?" he wondered.

"It's a long story," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'll tell you some other time." _Please let it drop!_

"Are fellas invited to this party?" Chester asked tentatively. He wasn't taking any chances on more misunderstandings.

"Of course!" Kitty assured him as Matt stifled a laugh. "Everyone's invited. But not a word to him about it, Chester. Promise?"

"Oh, I sure do promise you that, Miss Kitty," he said excitedly, seeing his boring Friday night turning into a social event, complete with free food and drinks. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he frowned. "For corn's sake, I ain't got very long to figure out what to get him, do I?"

Kitty shook her head. "Don't worry about that, I'm telling people not to buy gifts," she informed him. "You can just make him a card. Something funny or heartfelt, whatever you think he would appreciate."

Chester pondered the suggestion with slight confusion. "I don't reckon I know what Doc appreciates. I don't think I ever seen him happy."

Kitty let out a cackle, which she cut short as the door opened and the subject of their discussion entered. Doc found himself looking at the three suddenly silent, innocent faces. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked suspiciously.

"Not at all," Kitty quickly answered for the trio. "We were just talking about trying to find you for breakfast."

"That's why I'm here," he announced, noticing Chester staring at him and grinning. He gestured toward Matt's assistant. "What's up with him?"

"Oh now Doc, cain't a fella just be happy to be goin' to breakfast with his friends?" Chester chastised, as though Doc was being unusually cantankerous. Matt and Kitty exchanged a glance and Kitty held her breath.

"I suppose," Doc admitted, after a pause. "Well don't just stand there, are we going to eat or not?"

Everyone headed out the door, with Doc leading the way to Delmonico's. Chester's expression told his friends that he was quite pleased with the way he had handled the situation. Yessiree, their secret was safe with him. Now they only had to get through an entire meal.

Matt leaned down and whispered to Kitty as they approached the restaurant. "You'd better get your kicking foot ready," he advised.

GSGSGSGSGS

**Early evening**

Kitty steadied her feet on the chair as she reached up to hold her side of the banner in place. "How does that look?" she asked Chester, who was standing several feet away to gauge the evenness of the large "Happy Birthday Doc" sign that would soon decorate the wall behind the bar.

"Looks good, Miss Kitty," he dutifully reported.

"Chester, can you hand me that hammer?" Matt inquired as he held a nail in place on the opposite end of the banner, which he easily reached without a chair.

Chester took the hammer off the bar and handed it to the tall marshal, who drove it into Kitty's homemade white cloth sign with two well-placed hits. He walked over to do the same to Kitty's nail, and she winced as she held the nail between her fingers.

"Be careful with that thing," she warned. "I'm rather fond of this hand."

"So am I," he retorted, soft enough that Chester wouldn't hear. He gently tapped the nail into place.

Kitty prepared to step off the chair and Matt instinctively took her hand. She hopped onto the floor with his assistance and stood back to admire her handy work. It looked pretty good, if she did say so herself.

She glanced at the clock and noted that guests should start arriving any minute. Each table already had a bowl of peanuts and pretzels, and the bar would soon be covered in trays of sandwiches and other finger foods. Mrs. Gregory from the bakery was bringing the raspberry cream cake and another tray of pastries, all donated in appreciation of the many trips Doc had made out to her place when her kids had been sick. The candles for the cake were in Kitty's office.

"Now you two know what to do, right?" she quizzed her cohorts.

"Oh, yes Ma'am, I surely do," Chester beamed, honored to be playing an important role in the big event. He'd only gotten himself kicked twice during breakfast and hadn't given anything away. Mister Dillon had kept him awful busy all day, so he hadn't even seen Doc since then.

"We won't mess it up, I promise," Matt declared with confidence. Kitty had sent Sam over to Doc with a vague stomach ailment to keep the guest of honor from wandering into The Long Branch before they were ready for him. Sam was instructed to have a recurrence of his sporadic knee problems if the stomach issue wasn't sufficiently time consuming.

The batwing doors slowly opened and the first guests crept in, quiet as a church mouse. Esther Henson carried a small handbag with a large envelope sticking out of the top, her husband Walter in tow. "We ain't late, are we?" she whispered to Kitty as she scanned the room.

"No, you're actually the first ones here," Kitty replied with a smile, directing her to a table in the back. "We're putting all the cards over there."

Esther pulled the envelope out of her handbag and briefly fanned herself with it before laying it on the table. "We sure do appreciate the invitation, Miss Kitty. Walter and me haven't had a night out just the two of us in…well, I don't remember when."

"I'm so glad you could come," Kitty said sincerely. "Where are your kids?"

"Well, Mary Jane's fourteen now and we figured she was right old enough to keep an eye on all the young'uns for a few hours. Walter Junior's eleven, so he'll be a good help to her."

"If they don't kill each other 'fore we get home," her husband added. "You know how brothers and sisters are."

Kitty laughed, though as an only child she actually didn't know how brothers and sisters were. But she had been around the six Henson kids enough to know they were a handful, and she was happy to give Esther and Walter a reason to get out alone.

Fifteen minutes later The Long Branch was filled with thirty people, including a few women Kitty had sworn would never step foot inside a saloon. Yet here they were, and everyone was eager to celebrate a man who had absolutely no idea anyone knew it was his birthday. The table in the back was piled high with envelopes and several small, crudely wrapped items.

Kitty made her way over to Matt and Chester and took a deep breath. "You're up," she announced with sudden nervousness. After several near disasters, everything was finally going off without a hitch and the party was about to begin. Doc would enjoy it…wouldn't he? Kitty felt butterflies in her stomach knowing she was about to find out.

Matt and Chester headed out of the saloon to set the final act into motion.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

The Birthday Party

Chapter 8

"Are you sure that's all, Sam?" Doc asked sarcastically. The poor man had invented aches and pains in practically every part of his body as he stalled for time, determined not to spoil Miss Kitty's plan. He looked up in profound relief as Matt and Chester walked into the office.

"That's all," Sam replied as he hopped off the table, looking much better than he did a few minutes ago. "Thanks Doc, you're a miracle worker." Doc shook his head as Sam politely nodded to Matt and Chester and hurried outside with his powders.

"He's getting as bad as Mrs. Eggart," Doc mumbled. "I might have to make a double batch of placebos."

Matt subtly nudged Chester into action. "I plum missed lunch today things was so busy," Chester announced, rubbing his stomach in exaggerated large circles. "Sure could use some dinner."

Doc ran his hand over his moustache and sniffed. "Well, I saw the blackboard earlier and I don't know if I can face catfish stew tonight," he said.

"Me either," Matt agreed. "We could ride out to that new restaurant just outside of town. It would be something different."

Doc mulled over the suggestion for several seconds. He kind of liked the idea of a special dinner with two of his best friends, on this day in particular. If only Kitty wasn't busy with her party, it might be the perfect evening. But this sounded pretty nice.

"Why not?" he shrugged, grabbing his hat. "I don't want to be out too late, though. I have to pack for tomorrow."

"Fine," Matt replied, exchanging a smile with Chester. He thought he noticed a bounce in Doc's step as he led the way down the stairs.

Doc headed toward Moss Grimmick's stable to get his horse, with Matt and Chester convincingly playing along. Matt stopped abruptly when they reached the barn door, as though he had forgotten something.

"Oh wait, I promised Kitty I would come by and carry up something from the cellar before her party," he announced. "Anyone want to come with me and wish her luck?"

"I'll come," Chester quickly offered. "How 'bout you, Doc, you wanna come say hi to Miss Kitty with us?"

Doc chuckled. "I suppose I'd be a fool to pass up an opportunity to see that lovely lady," he replied, giving a knowing look to the young marshal who had so obviously felt the same way from the very moment he met Kitty Russell.

The three men walked the short way to The Long Branch, and Matt made sure to talk loudly as they approached the entrance. "This shouldn't take too long, Doc," he said deliberately, alerting the hostess and guests to their impending arrival. He and Chester each opened a door and allowed Doc to walk in first.

"Surprise!" shouted a chorus of voices to a very startled country doctor. He instinctively turned around to see if someone else was behind him, wondering for just an instant if he had been mistaken for Charlotte. The banner hanging over the bar soon told him otherwise.

It was a rare occasion that Doc was speechless, but this was one of them. He was standing in a room completely filled with smiling faces, and he knew them all. They were farmers and handy men, homemakers and working girls, businessmen and bartenders. They were the town, _his_ town, a diverse group of people with one thing in common—a life that had been made better for having been personally touched by Dr. Galen Adams.

Kitty saw Doc's stunned expression and summoned up the courage to take responsibility. She gently put her arms around him and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek. "Happy Birthday, Doc," she whispered in his ear. "We love you. Don't be mad."

"Who…I mean…how did you know?" he stammered, still trying to process this unexpected turn of events.

"A woman has her ways," she said mysteriously, hoping to squelch that line of questioning. She wasn't ashamed of how she had found out, but she wasn't exactly anxious to tell him either.

"How old are ya, Doc?" yelled a man from the back of the crowd.

"A hundred and four," he yelled back to howls of laughter. As the residents of Dodge City gathered around the man of the hour, hugging him and shaking his hand and wishing him many more years of health and happiness, Doc was all smiles. Kitty uncovered her trays of food and happily began filling mugs. The memory of every doubt, every anxiety-filled misstep over the past week disappeared as she saw the look of sheer delight on Doc's face.

Matt made his way to the bar and gazed proudly at his partner. "Well I don't know what you were so worried about. I knew all along this was a great idea," he claimed jokingly.

Kitty let out a brief chortle. "Whatever would I do without your sunny optimism?" she needled him as she held out a full tray of cold beers. "Now go make yourself useful." Matt cheerfully took the tray and began to serve their guests. Kitty smiled to herself as several of the women politely declined. There had been times when she felt looked down upon by the "respectable" ladies of Dodge, but not today. They had quite willingly entered her establishment, and they were having fun. She went to her office and retrieved the crystal bowl full of punch she had prepared for them.

At a table in the back corner, there was another face as happy as Doc's. Chester was pleasantly surprised to see Charlotte Price in attendance at the party, and he couldn't quite believe his luck when she asked if he wanted to sit with her. He bought her a free beer and the two began chatting away.

"How did that happen?" Matt wondered after he returned to the bar with an empty tray.

"Well, I warned Charlotte about how we accidentally involved her in this party, and it turns out she kind of likes Chester too," Kitty explained.

"_We _accidentally involved her?" Matt asked with added emphasis. "Oh no you don't. I had to take responsibility for getting Chester involved, Charlotte is all yours."

"Okay, fine," she admitted nonchalantly. "I'll take credit for that—just look at how cute they are. Maybe it was fate."

Matt thought a lot of things were feeling like fate these days.

When the second round of beers came out, Kitty decided it was time for Doc to open his cards and gifts. The piano player finished his song and she yelled as loud as she could, but not even Kitty Russell's commanding voice could rise above the noise level of the room. Luckily, she had the services of a 6'7"marshal who was impossible to ignore.

"Attention everyone!" he shouted, and the room quieted to a low roar. "I think the guest of honor has a few things to open."

"Now you all know I don't need anything," Doc insisted.

"Nobody bought a thing," Kitty assured him. "It was one of the rules of the party. I know you," she added with a satisfied nod.

"Well, alright then," he replied.

Doc sat in a chair and Kitty handed him the large envelope she recognized from Esther's purse. He tore off the top and pulled out a piece of paper. The drawing was in charcoal, and it was quite good for a teenager. Mary Jane Henson had a talent for art, as she did for many things. But her passion was science, and thanks to a certain dedicated physician, she aspired to become the first woman doctor in the territory. The drawing was a self-portrait, complete with a stethoscope around her neck and a black bag in her hand. At the bottom she had written, "To my friend Doc Adams, from the future Doc Henson."

Doc smiled proudly. "By golly, she'll do it too," he told Esther and Walter. "You be sure to tell her how much I love this. I'm going to hang it in my office, right next to my diploma."

For the next half hour Doc made his way through the stack of cards, letters, and homemade gifts, taking the time to appreciate every single one. The expressions of gratitude were heartfelt, some from people who could barely write, filled with individual stories that had one common theme—the people of Dodge City owed their health, well-being, and often their lives to the town doctor who takes care of them unconditionally. Some brought tintypes of children he had delivered and nursed through illnesses, others baked pies and cookies, and Elmer Sturgis' wife brought a basket with a dozen eggs and a note that read, "Sorry for all the trouble. Signed—the chicken." Everyone got a big laugh out of that one.

The last envelope was from Chester, who did his best to follow Miss Kitty's instructions and make something Doc would appreciate. He had taken a piece of Office of the U.S. Marshal stationery and folded it in half, writing "To Doc" on the front in his distinct block letter handwriting. On the inside his message was short, simple, and perfect. "I feel mighty blessed to know you. Happy Birthday from your good friend, Chester."

Doc put the paper back in the envelope and nodded at his frequent verbal sparring partner. "Me too, Chester," he said sincerely. "Me too." Chester grinned. He was pretty sure that must be what Doc looked like when he was happy.

"I'd like to thank each and every one of you," Doc told the crowd of partiers as he set Chester's note on the table with the rest. "This is just…well, it's really something," he said, rubbing his hand over his moustache. "I'll never forget it."

As everyone applauded, Kitty whispered in Matt's ear and the two slipped into the back room. Kitty uncovered a very large raspberry cream cake adorned with small white candles. "You weren't kidding," Matt laughed heartily as he saw her creation. "This is perfect."

They lit the candles and Matt held the office door open while Kitty carefully carried out the minor inferno. They began a mostly on-key version of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow," and the rest of the room joined in. By the end of the refrain, Kitty had made her way to the table where Doc was sitting while Matt quickly moved the cards and gifts to make room for the cake. There were a few snickers as the people standing near her caught a glimpse of the top.

Doc saw the sea of tiny flames coming toward him and couldn't help but cringe. They had somehow found out his birthday, did they know how old he was as well? He braced himself for all the jokes. But when the cake was set in front of him, he chuckled and aimed a grateful wink at Kitty. The candles, starting at the top of the cake and ending at the bottom, were arranged in the shape of a question mark.

"Now that's my kind of birthday cake," Doc announced as he blew out all the candles in one breath. Kitty grabbed her serving set and began cutting, making sure there was a piece for everyone. As usual, Mrs. Gregory's cake was a masterpiece in appearance and flavor.

The celebration continued for two more hours, the crowd slowly dwindling as people had to get home to their children and chores. When the last stragglers finally said their goodbyes, Doc was left to end the evening with his three closest friends.

"I don't know how this happened, but I sure do thank you all," he offered genuinely.

"Don't thank us," Matt said, pointing a thumb toward Kitty. "This was all her. We just followed orders."

"Was you surprised?" Chester asked, still quite proud of his role in this resounding success.

"Surprised? No, I wouldn't say I was surprised," Doc answered with a straight face. "More like flabbergasted!"

"Happy Birthday, Doc," Kitty said one last time as the two embraced for several seconds.

"Okay you two, break it up," Matt said with a tone of playful disapproval. "Doc, you and I have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I haven't even packed yet."

"So that part was real?" Doc inquired, suddenly unsure of how far the ruse had gone.

"Yep, we're heading out to see Tom and Carrie tomorrow. I'll help you carry all this stuff back to the office. I think we'd both better get some sleep."

With that, the men said goodnight to a very tired and pleased Kitty Russell.

GSGSGSGSGSGSG

**Saturday**

The stage to Kinsley left promptly at 8:30am. Matt was hoisting his bag onto the luggage area when he saw Doc approaching.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd make it on time," he teased his older friend. "I thought maybe you partied to late to get up this early."

"Aren't you the witty one," Doc deadpanned. "I'll have you know I was dressed and eating breakfast before you were even up."

"I don't doubt it," Matt laughed. "Here, let me get your bag," he offered.

Doc handed him the suitcase and pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "Thanks, Matt. I have to run an errand before we leave. I'll be right back."

Matt took the suitcase and Doc made the short walk over to the Post Office. He bought a stamp and handed the attendant an envelope addressed to The American Medical Association. Inside was the application he had finally completed after returning home from his party. The line after _Special Skills_ had a single, meaningful word written on it. _Yes._

"Is that all for you today?" the postman asked.

"That's all," Doc replied confidently before heading back to the stage.

The End


End file.
